


Happy Birthday, Grace.

by DarkAislinn



Series: Gracing the Wasteland [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAislinn/pseuds/DarkAislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a long time since Grace has had a birthday and her friends make sure to make her 210th as memorable as possible, especially Danse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Grace.

When asked if he could speak to her alone, she didn’t deny his request. She didn’t deny anyone who wished to speak to her in private. She’d always had an open door policy and it stemmed from her days in the military. Sometimes her soldiers needed someone to talk to - even if it was personal or family related or just to bullshit - and she wasn’t going to be the officer that turned them away; especially in war time. After she left the military, her policy carried over into her law office and now it seemed to follow her into in the Wasteland called The Commonwealth - a world so vastly different from her own yet so similar it threatened to break her heart.   


  
When he approached her, she assumed it would be something Brotherhood related or, perhaps, he was looking to vent about Hancock’s blatant disregard for personal space or Cait’s ability to know exactly when you were getting ready to fall asleep to overdose on chems again. It was a rare and beautiful thing when he wanted or, in some cases, needed to speak to her about something personal. He was very private when it came to his personal thoughts and feelings which could be extremely tiresome. It was both something she adored and abhorred. 

  
  
She was busy tinkering with something Piper had asked her to fix when he’d inadvertently stepped into her light and cleared his throat. She hadn’t needed to look up to know that the shadow cast by power armor was Danse. He was the only one who wore it in their merry band of wasteland misfits, aside from her of course. She at least took it off and went without more often than not.   


 

  
“May I speak to you in private?” he asked, his voice deep and comforting just as it always was, except that she heard something unusual. She couldn’t place her finger on the difference, but the way he asked was abnormal and it immediately set her back straight.   


 

  
“Of course,” she quickly replied, scooting her chair back and standing. The wound she’d sustained to her lower abdomen twinged from the movement and she pressed her hand against it with a grimace. He took a step towards her with his hands outstretched in concern, but she waved him off with a smile. “I’m fine, Danse.” He dropped his hands to his side and eyed her as if he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t say anything. The idea that he was worried about her set her insides fluttering and made her face flush. “Walk with me to the water?”   


 

  
The river was a safe distance from the prying eyes and nosey ears of Sanctuary. The rushing and clunking of the pump would mask their conversation. As they passed Piper, she caught the wink she sent Danse along with the thumbs up. She wasn’t sure what that was about, but she was more concerned with what he wanted to speak to her about. Hopefully it wasn’t going to be a rehash of their argument a few weeks ago about Deacon. She couldn’t keep doing it and if he brought it up one more time, she might just scream.   


 

  
Once they were close enough, she turned and almost smacked into him. “Whoa there, big guy,” she laughed, back peddling a few feet. “You have to warn a girl before you just stop.”   


 

  
She tilted her head up to see him and her smile faltered at the serious look on his face. It set her nerves alight and she tensed, preparing for whatever he threw at her. He only ever wore that expression when it was something that was deeply personal or troubling.   


 

  
“I… I find it difficult to speak to you about this matter now that we’re alone,” he finally said, his stance unchanged and the expression still painted across his features.   


 

  
“I’m always here to listen to you or anyone else,” she replied with a small and what she hoped was a reassuring smile.   


 

  
His features shifted into a look of confusion with his dark brows lowering over his eyes. “It’s nothing that should cause you concern. Unless - well. Unless you refuse. I’ve never been very good at these types of things and I don’t know what I’m doing or if you even…” he trailed off and his eyes were fixed steadily to her left. He sighed and his shoulders dropped with the movement. “I know your birthday is approaching and I would like it if… I would greatly appreciate it if you would accompany me to Diamond City. There is something there I want you to see.”   


 

  
She felt her own brows rise until they just about disappeared beneath her hair. That wasn’t what she was expecting. “Like a date?” she blurted before she could stop herself. Her face flushed crimson and she cursed her genetics.   


 

  
D anse shifted his weight from one armored foot to the other and rubbed the back of his neck with a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “I… well, yeah. Unless that makes you uncomfortable. In which case, then you can refuse. I mean, you can refuse regardless if you…  the reporter said this would be easy, but I can assure you it’s far from it.”

 

 

She couldn’t stop the silly grin that spread across her face and the giddy feeling that was bubbling up inside of her. Not that she’d want too. She’d been harboring feelings that ran deeper than what should be appropriate for a while now and this alone was the best early birthday present she could ask for. “Hey,” she said, laying her hand against his armored arm. “I’d love to.”

 

 

  
His response was a genuine smile that said he was both happy and relieved she had agreed. “Good. I’m glad to hear you say that. I was thinking if we leave tomorrow evening, we’d be able to make it the morning of your birthday.”   


 

  
“Okay. That’ll give me time to settle things here,” she replied.   


 

  
They agreed on a time that they’d head out and he went off to inspect the guard posts to make sure that everything was secured. She watched him lumber off with a smile. She thought her heart might burst from happiness and when she entered the small fort that she’d built, Piper caught her look.   


 

  
“How’d it go?” the journalist asked, letting herself bounce on the bed while Grace started gathering her things.   


 

  
“Aside from the fact that I thought he was going to tell me something dreadful, it went well. I’m assuming you had something to do with it?”   


 

  
Her response was to tap her index finger to her nostril. “Anyway,” she said. “I think you’re really going to like what he has planned. It’s extremely thoughtful and I was so surprised by his idea that I thought it had to have been Deacon putting him up to it, but it was all him. He really cares about you, Blue. I’m definitely jealous. If only you know who would look at me in just half the way Danse does you, I’d be happy.”   


 

  
Grace peered through the cracks of the wall towards where Preston was laughing at something Deacon was saying before tossing Piper an understanding look. “To be fair, I don’t think Garvey would know someone is interested even if she danced naked in front of him with a sign over her tits.”   


 

  
Piper laughed and nodded at the mental image. “If that’s what I’ve got to do, then I might take him to the Dugout Inn,” she smiled. “Honestly though, you’re going to love what Danse has put together. But, I’ve got to run. I told Curie I’d help her with some humanisms that she asked about.”   


 

  
She hopped off the bed and disappeared. Once Grace had everything together, she finally answered the rumbling of her stomach and then fell into bed herself. The trip to the Institute took a lot out of her. When she finally fell asleep, she couldn’t help wondering what exactly Danse had planned. No matter what it was, she was certain she’d love it.   
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
Between the Raiders, Gunners and Super Mutants she was surprised that they made it to Diamond City in one piece. They were behind schedule with the sun setting above them, but at least they made it.   


 

  
“Christ,” she huffed, rolling her shoulders beneath her power armor. “I could definitely go for a Bobrov special right now. I think that suicider knocked out my tesla coils.”   


 

  
“It was certainly an unpleasant experience,” Danse agreed, inspecting his helmet. “My matrix overlay is shot. I’ll have Ingram look at it when we make it to the Prydwen.”   


 

  
“Come on. Let’s go rent a couple of beds,”  she said, motioning towards the other side of the city.

 

  
When he made no move to follow her, she turned around to see him holding a small key in his hand. “I… this is for you,“ he murmured, his voice quiet and sounding unsure of himself. “It’s the reason I brought you here. I was hoping we’d arrive sooner, but now is as good a time as any.”    


 

  
She took the offered key and looked up at him. “What does it go too?”   


 

  
He turned and pointed towards a red door near the power armor stand she’d seen a thousand times. “That door. I’ll show you.”   


 

  
He plucked the key out of her hands and made his way across the stadium. “It’s called Home Plate. I was told it was a baseball reference of some kind,” he explained as he fumbled with the small key. It clicked into place and he turned it. Before he opened the door, he paused and faced her. His mouth opened and closed as if he couldn’t find the right words. He finally sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d like you to enter first.”   


 

  
She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the lighting, she gasped. The wall that greeted her had a painting of a farm that was identical to her grandfather’s where she’d spent most of her summers growing up. It had the barn with the silo and rows of corn as far as the eye could see. Seeing it again, even if it was just a painting and not the real thing, brought tears to her eyes that she had to blink away.   


 

  
“Valentine said that some of your memories bled through when you were at the Memory Den. Every painting here is something he saw and it was his birthday gift to you,” Danse said quietly to her left. “Piper remembered your description of your house and she tried to recreate the furniture as best she could from what Valentine said the patterns looked like.”   


 

  
The more he showed her and explained how everyone had pitched in to make her gift possible, the harder it was to contain the emotions that were swirling around inside of her. Above her bed was a painting of Pepper, the dog she and Nate had adopted and who'd gone missing the day the bombs fell. That was another hole in her heart that had healed over the last year and while it would never disappear, it was replaced by Dogmeat. There was a hand stitched quilt adorning her bed that reminded her of the one her mother had made when she'd gotten married. Danse said that Mama Murphy sewed it together as her way of saying thank you for everything she did for Sanctuary, not to mention the countless days and nights she'd stayed by the woman's bed as withdrawal took its toll.

 

He walked her through the rest of the small house, pointing out things that all of her friends had either made or given her. Hancock and Cait had each put together a few coolers full of her favorite snacks and more than a few alcoholic beverages. She didn't miss the fact that there were no chems to be found and she smiled at that. Preston had remembered her love for chess and managed to find an intact board with all the pieces that went to it. There were cabinets stocked full of canned dog food that would last her entire life time for Dogmeat and her newest dog, Brownie - a yunkyard pup whose owner could no longer care for, despite how painful it was for him to give her up to some stranger. She'd never forget the heartbreaking sound of his sobbing when he said his final goodbyes. She'd cried then too, promising that she'd never let harm befall her and if he ever,  _ ever _ , need anything to seek out Sanctuary. She hadn't seen him since. 

 

Curie had put together a wardrobe full of clothes that were in pristine condition and suited for all types of weather that she might encounter and a small reading nook. The shelf above was stacked with blankets, bedding and pillows. There was another bed tucked into a corner with a lamp and end table that Danse explained was for whoever she travels with. 

 

“Who bought this place?” she finally asked after stepping out of her power armor and settling herself in the big, comfy chair near the small fireplace. 

 

“I did,” he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks tinted and she was sure it wasn't from the fire. “I knew this place was for sale and I wanted you to have a home that was yours. You do so much for others and you give everything to anyone who needs you. You deserved a place that truly belonged to you that housed your belongings. A place where you could go and not be the General of the Minuteman or Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel, a place for you to be Grace.”

 

Once again she felt the hot sting behind her eyes and this time no amount of blinking - which just made her look ridiculous - was going to stop the flood of tears. Danse looked up from his hands when she sniffed and immediately knelt in front of her out of concern. 

 

“If you don't like it, that's okay. You don't have to come here,” he whispered. 

 

“Oh, Danse!” she sobbed and and threw her arms around his neck. Her fingers curled into his thick hair at the base of his skull and she hugged him as close as she could in their current positions. “I love it you big tin can! I'm crying because I'm so happy and I haven't felt this way in a long time.”

 

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist and she felt his breath on her neck when he laughed. “I'm glad,” he murmured against her ear. 

 

She took the opportunity to lean back and press her lips against his. She'd been fantasizing about what his lips would feel like and nothing she'd ever conjured in the last year did justice to them now. They were slightly chapped yet unbelievably soft. 

 

His mouth fit hers perfectly and when he threaded his fingers through her mass of curls and tilted her head so he could access her lips better, she thought she might die. He smelled like metal and ozone but there was distinct musk that was warm and spicy and was so utterly  _ Danse _ , she wanted more. It was that moment when she felt the definite shift between them. For months they'd been dancing around and toeing the line between friends and more. Now though, when he responded to her kiss and didn't stop it, they'd move from one level and onto another. 

 

Emboldened by this new and exciting development, she risked the chance and ran the very tip of her tongue over his bottom lip, tasting and testing him. She'd never given much thought to the idea he might be experienced - he was so damn dedicated to the Brotherhood - that it was surprising when he met her questing appendage with his own with a fervor that sucked the breath out of her lungs and sent a bolt of heat straight to her nethers. 

 

His smell was nothing compared to the way he tasted or felt beneath her lips and hands. He tasted like smoked whiskey and melon with the smallest hint of fresh grown corn from Vault 81. It was like being wrapped in velvet with satin being slid over her most cherished parts. Beneath the pads of her fingers were cords of muscle under the hot skin of his neck and his hair was so soft and thick it almost made her jealous. 

 

At some point, she'd slid off her perch and onto his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. He trailed kisses across her left cheek, the bridge of her nose to her right cheek and back down to her lips. His tongue sought entry into her mouth by sliding it along the seam and coaxing her lips open for him so he could taste her.

 

She broke the kiss, the need for air to great, and pressed her forehead against his. Once their breathing slowed, she pulled back far enough to be able to look at him. His pupils were blown wide and his cheeks were flushed. She imagined she must look much the same as she threaded her fingers through the top of his hair in an attempt to lay it flat but causing it to stick up even more. “This is the best birthday,” she told him, then smiled. “Your hair is sticking up.”

 

“I've never been able to get it to do what I want,” he replied, his lips pulling up at the edges. His thumb brushed over her jaw and down her neck to play with her curls. “This is supposed to be a date and so far I've only shown you one of your presents. If we change, we'll be able to still make it to the second part of your birthday.”

 

He helped her into a standing position, after another heated kiss, and practically pushed her towards the stairs so she could change. She wasn't certain what she should wear, but after a few minutes of staring at Curie’s wardrobe, she picked out a cream colored dress with a matching pair of heels. There was a small bowl with fresh water and she used it for a quick, cold bath that left her feeling chilled, invigorated and clean. In her nightstand she found a brush and a mirror, both of which she used to tidy up her appearance. After attempting to calm her curls and subsequently giving up, she gave one last cursory, overall glance at herself and made her way back to where Danse was waiting, slipping her glasses back on as she stepped down the stairs. 

 

She found him sitting near the fire, a cigarette in one hand while the other was trying to smooth his hair. He'd apparently had the same idea of a bath since his gear was soaking in a basin and all traces of dirt, blood and oil were gone from his skin and she could smell the soap he'd used. He cleaned up quite nicely, she mused. Instead of his normal power armor and standard Brotherhood issued fatigues, he'd donned a simple black suit with the first few buttons of his clean, white shirt undone. He was the epitome of a 2070’s male model with the rugged scar across his face an added bonus and her heart skipped a few beats. 

 

She stepped up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulders, sliding them down towards his chest and resting her cheek against his. “You ready to go, handsome?” 

 

He laughed, the quiet, embarrassed kind, and placed his free hand over both of hers that were locked together over his chest. “Locked and loaded,” he joked even though she saw the .44 holstered near his ribs. You could never be too safe, not even in Diamond City. She herself had a firearm safely strapped to her thigh in case anyone tried to start anything. He put his cigarette out and walked to the door. He opened it and used his hand to gesture towards it, a small smile pulling his lips upwards. “Ladies first.”

 

* * *

 

 

He guided her through the city with his large, warm hand on her back since he wouldn't let her open her eyes. Instead of taking a direct route, he took so many turns and twists, she couldn't figure out where they going. “Are we almost there?” she asked after the fifth turn. 

 

“You're really not very patient,” he said and she heard the amusement in his voice. “We're here. But give me a moment.”

 

His hand disappeared from her back and she heard him open a door. She wanted to peek, but she also didn't want to ruin the surprise. Patiently she stood there until she heard the door open again and felt his hand slide down her arm to lace their fingers together. He tugged at her hand and she followed him, trusting him to not be leading her to a Deathclaw nest as he'd done a few times by “accident”. That was a story for another time. 

 

He led her through the door with the same winding path he was intent on keeping. She caught the scent of a man's cologne and roasted meat that smelled absolutely divine. Finally, they stopped and he released her hand. “Open your eyes,” he ordered softly. 

 

When she did, her heart melted and she had the sudden, overwhelming urge to leap into his arms and kiss him until they passed out. 

 

I'm front of her was a table with honest to God flowers and candles. There was a bottle of her favorite wine that she didn't even want to know how or where they found it or, in the most unfortunate case, which poor bastard died over it. The walls and floors had been scrubbed clean and she couldn't believe this was a room somewhere in Diamond City. To the side of the table was a longer one that was full to brimming of food and sweets. Danse was standing nervously across from her, his hands resting on the chair in front of him. 

 

“Oh, Danse,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision. “It's beautiful.”

 

He gave her a smile and visibly relaxed. “I hope you're hungry.”

 

Before she dug into the different platters, she took the few steps to him and slid her arms up to wind around his neck. She brought his head down for a kiss and just about dropped into a puddle when his hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her flush against his hard, muscled body. 

 

If the first kiss was amazing, this one was mind blowing. His knee slid expertly between her legs and she stood on her tiptoes for better access. One of his hands curled in her hair as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth as if he'd kissed her a thousand times. Heat pooled between her thighs and she dipped her fingers into his collar to feel his skin against hers. 

 

His lips pressed hot kisses down her throat and she groaned when he found that spot near her collarbone. He nipped her earlobe, his hand gliding down her back to squeeze her ass and press her against him. “Grace,” he breathed into her ear and she couldn't help the breathy moan she released. He rested his forehead against hers. “As much as I'd like to continue, we should stop. My stomach is about to eat itself.”

 

She laughed and pressed one last kiss - for now - against his lips. “I can think of plenty of fun ways to eat  _ and _ continue,” she whispered, a smirk on her face. 

 

He gave her a confused look before he understood her meaning. His cheeks turned bright red and she laughed again. “As intriguing as that sounds, I'd much rather continue… this… after dinner.”

 

Oh. If she had her way, there would definitely be a continuation of the events that had just transpired. It was her birthday after all and she desperately wanted his candle buried in her cake. 

 

Reluctantly she pulled away and they loaded their plates with as much of the food as possible. He poured them each a glass of wine and while they ate, they talked about whatever they could think of. Piper and Nick had pulled some strings for this dinner and she had to remember to thank them and reimburse them for whatever they paid for and perhaps a little more just for being the best damn friends she'd ever had. 

 

Little was spoken about the Brotherhood or Institute or Railroad and for that she was eternally grateful - it was nice to have a day off so to speak. They mostly talked about each other and how Sanctuary was coming along. She confided in him her worries about Cait and he offered some advice on the matter, citing that Rhys hadn't always been the model soldier and he'd spent too many days and nights worrying about and helping him. Speaking of which, he asked her if Rhys’ attitude towards her was getting any better and she laughed saying she could roll with his punches and that she understood him a little better now. They talked about Dogmeat and he asked her questions about what it was like before the war. 

 

Once they were full and she felt as if one more bite would make her explode, they headed back to her new home. He offered her his suit jacket, slipping it over her shoulders, when she mentioned it was starting to cool off and she took his much larger hand in hers, lacing their fingers together as they walked through the great green jewel. 

 

As soon as she was inside, she kicked off her heels with an appreciative sigh. It'd been a long time since she'd worn any shoe like that and her feet were starting to hurt. She was definitely more comfortable in combat boots, she thought as she removed the gun from her thigh and placed it on the small end table. 

 

She was going to head upstairs to change, but Danse had other ideas. He caught her hand and spun her towards him, her dress flaring out around her legs, and slid his hand towards her lower back while holding her other hand up near her shoulder. 

 

“I've heard that dancing was part of dating during your time,” he smiled, answering her silent question and kicking on the jukebox. 

 

He twirled her around again and she couldn't stop the laugh as she spun back into his arms. She hadn't been dancing in forever and having his arms around her and his body pressed against hers was like Heaven. Every other twirl and he'd bring her in close, swaying to the music, before spinning her out again.Her cheeks started hurting from all the smiling and laughing when the song changed to a slower tune with a deep melody and she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his chest. 

 

“I've never felt this way about anyone before,” he murmured, his lips near her ear. 

 

In truth, she never had either. She loved Nate, but what she felt for Danse was different. She wanted to admit to him that she loved him, because she did, but she knew it wasn't the right time. Instead of saying anything, she kissed him. She tried to convey how she felt and he responded warmly. 

 

He lifted her against him, his hands cupping her bottom, and walked them backwards towards the stairs, his lips trailing down her throat. She broke the kiss only to tug his hand so he'd follow her. Together they took the stairs two at a time in their excitement. 

 

She took off his jacket, draping it over her nightstand, and his hand was on her waist, spinning her around the second it was out of her hands, and tilting her head back to run his tongue over her earlobe and down her neck. 

 

A groan escaped her lips while her hands were busy undoing the buttons on his shirt. It fell open and she ran her hands over the hard muscles of his chest appreciatively. His skin was hot and she desperately wanted to feel him against her. Her impatience must have shown because the next moment he was pressing her down on the bed, her legs falling wide and his thigh slinking in between them. 

 

He nipped along her collarbone, tongue dipping out to taste her skin, while his hand caressed down her side towards her thigh and massaging the warm flesh he found there. He pulled her skin between his teeth, sucking on her pulse point. Her hands clutched his hair, his name a dying prayer on her lips. 

 

His fingers slowly unbuttoned her dress and with every inch of skin that was exposed was, he covered it in soft kisses until he reached her navel where he swirled his tongue and sucked on the smooth flesh above her underwear. Her dress fell open on either side of her, his hands sliding up over her hips and hooking inside her panties to pull them down over her legs. He tossed them somewhere to the floor before sitting up on his knees and tugging off his shirt. 

 

She took off her bra and moved her dress up under her head for a pillow just in time for him to lean over her, his lean body casting a shadow on the wall, and capture her lips in a mind numbing kiss. The heat of his thigh, the pinching of his pants and his lips traveling down her torso was sublime torture. Rough, calloused hands smoothed down her thighs, setting them over his shoulders, and spread them for him while he pressed tender kisses on the silken flesh. 

 

His breath was hot when his kisses landed on her moist lips. A guttural groan escaped her as he touched his tongue to her throbbing clit and out of reflex, her fingers tangled in his hair, her hips lifting towards his questing mouth. He ran the tip of his tongue along her seam tasting her, teasing her. His lips encircled her nub and gently pulled it into his mouth, his tongue sliding against it and drawing out soft, quiet affirmations of how good it felt. Every now and then she'd feel the gentle graze of his teeth and her hips would buck towards him of their own accord. 

 

He let her go with a wet sounding pop that caused her thighs to tremble and ran the flat of his tongue down towards her entrance, his hands gripping her thighs. He probed her and dipped his tongue inside, a low rumbling groan rising up out of his throat and vibrating against her, his one hand removing itself from her leg and slowly circling around her clit. 

 

Her orgasm surprised her, but she rode the waves of ecstasy and whispered his name while her hips pressed down and against his mouth. It had been so long, too long, since anyone but herself had touched her and she was so pent up that it shouldn't’ve been surprising. She was also embarrassed by quickly she climaxed, but he brushed away her stammering and half formed apologies by wrapping his lips around a pert nipple and sucking it into his mouth, his tongue sliding over it and telling her how good she tasted. 

 

She moaned, twisting his hair around her fingers, and lifting her hips when his thumb descended on her still pulsating clit, his two others slipping inside of her and finding that spot that made her toes curl and back arch. She felt his hard member pressing against her thigh and just the feeling of it, knowing that he was aroused because of her, sent her over the edge again with a muffled, shuddering cry against his shoulder. 

 

He pulled away and quickly shed his pants before settling between her thighs. One hand smoothed down her torso to her abdomen while the other guided himself towards her entrance. He looked at her, making sure she was ready, and she wrapped her hand around the one on her stomach. 

 

Seeing him bare, all hard lines and between her thighs was a beautiful sight. She wanted to feel him in her, above her. Wanted to watch his muscles as he moved over her. She'd spent many sleepless nights burying her face into a pillow imagining what it would feel like and now she was quivering with anticipation. She felt him pressing against her, muscles taut, and she squeezed his hand letting him know she was ready.

 

He slid in slowly, letting her body adjust to the intrusion, and she heard the hitch in his breath, saw the fluttering of his eyes caused by pleasure, which sent a bolt of heat straight to her center and she clenched around him. A groan slipped out of him, enveloping her in the sound. Once fully embedded, he ran his hand up the curve of her hip, the swell of her breast, and the dip of her neck to cup her face. He leaned over her and captured her lips in a kiss, his hips pulling back and thrusting forward in a slow, maddening rhythm. 

 

There was never a chance she'd be able to recreate the feeling of him inside her with just her fingers ever again. She'd been with a few men, and some women, but none of them ever made her feel full like he did now. He stretched her just to the point of almost painful, but it felt so good that her toes curled against his hips and she urged him to go faster. 

 

“Danse,” she whispered, her hands sliding across his shoulders and down his spine, her nails leaving light red marks. “Oh, God,  _ yes _ !”

 

He leaned back, gently cupping his hand behind her knee, and pushed her leg up until it almost touched her shoulder. He slid deeper and her back arched, a breathy scream being pulled out of her. Distantly she heard him say something, but the intense ripples of pleasure were drowning everything out except the feeling of him inside her.

 

The pace was neither fast nor slow. It was a steady rhythm of his hips thrusting forward, burying himself, and pulling back. Her fingers danced over her abdomen and up her chest, pulling at her erect nipples, and back down to tease her hypersensitive and swollen clit. She stroked herself once, twice, three times and slid her hand back up all the while begging him to go faster, harder. 

 

He surged forward, slamming himself into her so hard the air gusted out of her lungs and ran his tongue over her nipples, grazing his teeth over them. “ _ You're so wet _ ,” he lamented with a groan so deep it reminded her of thunder, his breath hot on her neck, tongue tracing a scalding line from her pulse to her ear lobe. 

 

White-hot pleasure burst in stars behind her eyelids and she scrambled to find purchase anywhere on his body. He slammed into her again, hitting that spot, and she cursed. The tempo of his hips increased and she felt the tight coiling of heat behind her bellybutton. He braced himself on his elbow, fingers sliding into her hair and tilting her head up to meet his lips. 

 

“Tell me you're close,” he moaned above her, his free hand thumbing her clit in firm, rapid circles that had the muscles in her legs twitching it felt so damn good. 

 

Her thigh wrapped around his waist and she pulled him closer, her lips finding his pulse and running her tongue over it. She heard him say her name and she felt the first tremor of her orgasm. 

 

His hips slammed against hers one last time and it was enough to send her spiraling into the best orgasm she'd had in a long time. With a breathy scream, she clamped down around him. His pace faltered and he pressed his hips against hers with a series of curses and praises, panting her name as he emptied himself inside of her. 

 

He dropped his forehead against her shoulder. As the aftershocks of their orgasms subsided, she idly ran her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck, enjoying the feeling of his weight on top of her and his skin against hers. Eventually he rolled to the side and pulled her against him, her head pillowed on his chest and his fingers tracing her spine. 

 

“I've wanted to do that from the moment you appeared at the police station,” he finally said. 

 

She laughed and propped her chin on top of her hand to look at him. “Me too,” she admitted, her cheeks still flushed from their activities. 

 

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges. They stared at each other for a few, silent moments. “I meant what I said earlier,” he said quietly, smoothing his hand through her hair. “About never feeling this way about someone before. Cutler was like a brother to me and it hurt when I - when he died, but this? This is different and it frightens me because if something happens to you… I can honestly say I don't know what I'd do.”

 

She leaned forward to kiss him. It was slow and languid and so full of emotion that she wanted to cry. “Nothing will happen to me,” she promised, her fingers sliding along his shoulder. 

 

He heaved a sigh and looked towards the ceiling, eyes closing briefly, and took a swallow. “In this world? It's awfully bleak, Grace. You can't promise me that, just as I can't guarantee you that I'll always be here either.”

 

“You can't think like that, Danse,” she admonished with a frown, tracing his chin with her fingers. “You can't always expect the worst. You have to live in the moment, allow yourself to be happy, and just go with whatever life throws at you.”

 

“You say that,” he argued, his soft, brown eyes gazing at her through his thick lashes. “But it's not that simple.”

 

“And why not? Because there's a chance that one of us could die? Let me tell you something. Nate could've been killed in the war or in a car accident or when trying to fix the roof and falling off, but I still wanted to be with him. I took the chance and he did too. That's what life is all about. You can't deny yourself happiness based upon what ifs. I could sit here all night and give you one hundred reasons we shouldn't try this, but I can also give you two hundred reasons why we should. If you really don't want to do… this,” she countered with a vague gesture in the area between them, “then fine. We can call this a mistake and ignore it and go our separate ways, but I want you to be sure. I don't want you to push me away and then decide that you want to be with me because that's not who I am. I can give you some space, time, whatever you need, but once you make a decision, there will be no going back.”

 

He was quiet for a moment and she could see him digesting her words, really taking in what she'd said. He heaved a sigh and let his hand slide through her curls and down the back of her head. “I don’t want to go back,” he finally murmured. “I can't say that I'll ever be comfortable when you venture out without me to watch your six, but I don't want to give up on this before it even starts due to my own insecurities. I just want to know you're safe.”

 

“I can trust my friends. And you can too,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “You might not like Deacon or Hancock or MacCready or, hell, even Cait, but they'll never let harm befall me if they can help it. I  _ can  _ promise you that much. I am safe with them and I trust them with my life.”

 

She knew he wanted to argue, could see it in the lines of his face and the curve of his lips, but she also knew he knew when to let it go. They weren't on the battlefield and when it came to her own operations, she put her foot down about who would go with her and how it would be done. He nodded and brought her head down to kiss her. “I trust you,” he said when he pulled back. He might've not argued, but there was a distinct lack of mentionings about her friends. 

 

Ignoring it, she gave him a bright smile, probably one of the first ones in a long while that reached her eyes, and tapped his chest lightly with her hand. “Have I told you how handsome you are?”

 

He chuckled. “You might've said it once or twice,” he smiled, his calloused fingers sliding over her hip to squeeze her bottom. “You're so beautiful. When we're on the Prydwen, the light reflects off your hair and it looks like there's a fire in you with golden flames. I love watching you make your rounds.”

 

She felt herself flush and tried to duck her head, but he caught her chin and pressed a kiss against her lips. “And to what did I do to receive such a compliment?” she murmured against his mouth. 

 

“It's the truth. It's also your birthday. You deserve everything.” He kissed her again. “Happy birthday, Grace.”

 

It was a good birthday, she thought as he pressed her down against the bed again. 

  
A very good birthday. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! I'm sorry that it's not betaed. There will be more of Grace and Danse! 
> 
> No, I haven't forgotten about all my other WIPs. :-)


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